


Because I want you

by TheSingerThatYouWanted (orphan_account)



Category: Nathan Barley (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drugs mention, M/M, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 19:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3989527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheSingerThatYouWanted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The credit for this idea goes to jonesashcroft on Tumblr (thank you again, Jonesy!) who, despite my apparent inability to make my phone do as it's told, sent me a prompt asking for Dan/Jones set to Because I Want You by Placebo. This is what I ended up with.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Because I want you

**Author's Note:**

> The credit for this idea goes to jonesashcroft on Tumblr (thank you again, Jonesy!) who, despite my apparent inability to make my phone do as it's told, sent me a prompt asking for Dan/Jones set to Because I Want You by Placebo. This is what I ended up with.

Dan fell onto the sofa, worn fabric scratching at the skin of his arms. One hand cradled the bottle of whiskey he'd stashed under the cushion months before; the other he dragged across his face, regretting every decision he'd ever made in his sorry life that had brought him to this point. A ringing silence filled his ears. Somehow the emptiness was more painful than the usual pounding bass, though his headache almost matched it.  
Jones had come on to him again. A part of Dan wished he could blame him, but he knew it wasn't his fault. The younger man was out playing a gig, and it was rare he got home without someone slipping him something. Usually he just went to his decks, played through it- Dan groaned as a memory overwhelmed him, Jones beaming at him and gesturing his mixes in shapes and colours, eyes unnaturally bright as joy ran through him- but every so often he would be on a different kind of high. Stumbling into the flat with a spaced-out smile, he'd bury his face in Dan's shoulder with a kind of shuddering groan, tent in his trousers bumping against Dan's thigh. That was what had happened that night. Turning his head to whisper, whimpering at the feeling of stubble against his skin, his breath had been hot against Dan's ear.  
"Want you, Dan, please. Now."  
A sigh, breath stuttering from his lungs. Dan couldn't move.  
"Inside me," he continued with a soft smile, nipping lightly at the skin just behind Dan's ear. "Think I've waited long enough... Wanted you for ages. Forever."  
Dan hated himself for wanting it. He hated himself for wanting so many things. For wanting the alcohol. For wanting to be better than he was. For wanting...  
His train of thought had been interrupted by Jones' lips suddenly pressing against his neck, sucking lightly at the pulse he found there like he was trying to sample it, put it into one of his mixes. A low moan had rumbled from his throat, unbidden.  
Lying on the sofa, taking another gulp of whiskey like it was water, Dan stopped trying to stop the memories. There was only so far he could sink, and he was already feeling at rock bottom.  
The younger man had pressed his whole body against Dan's, fingers wandering absentmindedly across his chest to the buttons on his shirt.  
"I don't understand you, Ashcroft," he said quietly, a hint of frustration entering his voice as he toyed gently with the fabric. "You think everything's beneath you, but you still don't think you're good enough for anyone. What've I got to do? Why don't you want me?"  
And Dan had pushed him away. Literally pushed, the younger man feeling suddenly small and fragile under his hands. Jones stumbled back, his back hitting the wall with a thud. The anger flowing through Dan's veins seemed to vanish as pale blue eyes met his, full of betrayal- god, were those tears?- and suddenly the door was swinging open and Jones was vanishing in a swirl of cold night air.  
Rolling over into a less uncomfortable position on the sofa, Dan let the bottle slip from his hand. The terrible silence in the flat was broken suddenly by the wail of a siren, just another part of the typical London soundtrack. For a moment he was seized with panic, images of Jones sprawled on a stretcher filling his mind, but he forced them aside. He was probably just crashing with one of his mates, and would be back by morning. Probably.  
At some point he must have dropped off, falling into a fitful sleep full of half-formed dreams. When he woke the next day to the familiar sounds of crashing music, Jones gazing sheepishly across the room at him, his only memory of the night before was an ache in his chest and words burning through his tongue.  
"Because I want you too."

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing about this except my phone and an overactive imagination


End file.
